The Mars Follies

Yesterday, I made a not so near fatal tactical error. Hiking in the Marin couragehills, there we were like two dogs lapping up liquid sunshine. It was real quality time, the kind that’s not easy to come by as a non-DINK couple (double income, no kids). So in the spirit of adventure, with an unexplored trail with a lake at it’s head (a lake!) and Mars in Cancer transiting, no foolhardily prodding my Sun, I declared “onward, ho!”

My husband gave me fair warning, tracing the trail with his finger on the plastic park map. It looked long. And we didn’t have a map to carry. How long could it be? We checked our watches, I figured I had three hours before my astrology reading at 6 – and home was only 5 minutes by car -plenty of time. As we reached the lake after an hour (or so) and I exclaimed, we’re almost home! my husband laughed. Not even.

LSS, we got lost.

So. Have you ever seen a death march scene in one of those war movies? Perhaps had a past life memory of being in one?

First, we didn’t have any water. And second, it was uphill. The good news is, there was always another corner to turn… just ahead, over the next plateau. Which was also the bad news. Because it was hill after hill after hill. Talk about generating false hope.

 

As I descended into fatigue, then intense thirst, and some weird kind of nausea probably generated from having no end in sight, I began thinking about Mars, and Aries. Rue that Mars on my Sun, I thought, wanting a big adventure; all eagerness, no forethought. Then I thought about Ernest Hemingway, who was experiencing a Mars transit when he shot himself. And while I knew I wasn’t dying, my legs told me otherwise (call me dramatic). I remembered the potential remedy to the destructive side of Mars is a call to action, a chance to do something really courageous, really brave. Was this it? Maybe I was just dying for adventure.

Either the fatigue, dehydration, or the 4 hour hike, whatever, my life began flashing before my eyes. Had it been good? If I wasn’t yet finished, did I, at least have a sense of completion? With Jupiter currently transiting my IC, the part of the chart astrologers look to for “the end of life”, I’ve been contemplating that lately (oh, and the fact that I just took another evolutionary astrology workshop, in which we got to explore cause-effect karmic samsara for like 4 days straight. Talk about tired.) And so I decided, as the Native American saying goes: “today would be a good day to die” which has never been a difficult for me to say. Which is eerie or destructo or great depending on your POV.

A few hours ago…on the leisurely, enjoyable part of our hike, we’d been having an enlightened conversation about the grand limitations we’d felt lately, personally, professionally. As I reflected, I was filled with a sense of divine justice and then…humor – because none of that mattered now. We had been thrown into the moment, I, kicking and screaming. And I, in fact, suddenly had a very Brezsny-esque ass-kicking pronoia epiphany. To quote the master: The price of admission into pronoia is a commitment to continual dying. You’ll have to ask yourself rude questions and kick your own ass again and again.

Ha, I get it! I was kicking my own ass! From there on out, higher perspective got the upper hand

Then we found the GPS, on his Blackberry in his back pocket (we forgot). And the GPS said we had 5 miles by fire road to go. Thanks GPS. It was 5 o’clock. I had a client to get to.

I began saying alms, asking the Universe to forgive me for my draggedy ass lame excuses lately, about being too busy, too tired, wanting to do less work, have more fun. Was this the Universe, about to take my session back, for all my complaining? After all, I had been questioning if this path really is the joy of my life? And when people ask me how I got into astrology replying: hmm, didn’t plan on it, IT chose me. Was it time for me to chose to love my art again?

We rounded a corner. And this time, there were people on the trail – good sign. And eventually we rounded another corner, and another, which led down to the parking lot. Four hours later, we arrived. And survived.

And just in time (okay 15 minutes late) for a kick-ass astrology session with a dear friend. And it tasted so G-O-O-D, like a fresh drink of water.

 

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